


Where Lame-os and Janitors hang out

by littleLuciernaga



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: Other, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 18:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20952926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleLuciernaga/pseuds/littleLuciernaga
Summary: Wallus is way better with kids than he gives himself credit for.





	Where Lame-os and Janitors hang out

A few months before Wallus was an expert in handling the school janitor position, he’d thought of himself as quite bad with children, and his experience at the Habitat had only reinforced the idea.

...Well, It was more like children were bad to_ him,_ really, with how mean they’d gotten with the years and how shy and sensitive he still was for his age, but hey, there wasn’t much he could do if the new job paid so decently for his services. He wouldn’t have even applied for it if it didn’t, never mind the fact that it was one of the only janitor gigs in town that offered so much security. _Someone_ has to pay his small apartment’s rent and make sure the old couch is always available for Kamal and sometimes Ronbo’s depressive slumps, anyway.

Besides, a school job wasn’t actually such a bad deal compared to working for freaking _Boris Habit_ at his worst. If anything, being provided a storage room to hide in whenever everything becomes too much to handle is already a huge plus. Peaceful, even, now that he’s managed to bring some of his stuff in order to make his brand new hideout somewhere more comfortable, personal and safe.

This positive view, of course, doesn’t last too long.

Because as it turns out, of_ course_ the kids from the Habitat are all in Wallus’s idyllic and peaceful new job. How could they not be? There is one school in town. It’s not like any of those rascals had parents with the kind of time or money to send them to the nice buildings in the neighboring city, but cleaning broken glass from the yard and finding himself questioned and pinched by Millie Coulro to let her keep some of it “as a trophy” wasn’t something he expected to be doing on his very first week on the job. Nor cleaning after many of the other bizarre things those particular kids were always up to-- as if regular kid shenanigans weren’t already something to be afraid of.

Wallus doesn’t see a lot of hope for peace in his future, but at the end of the day, at least there’s bread on his beard.

\--

“Heya, Lame-O.”

Wallus flinches at the sound of a familiar voice and turns around--then he glances down--way down-- to find one bratty and particularly pale little girl staring up at him in cool and quiet judgement. He sighs.

“Jeez, Nat.” He says, rubbing at his temples. “I thought the boiler room was what made me so lame.”

“I had no idea this is where you were working right now.” Nat tells him, willfully ignoring her own rudeness to favor her cool and uncaring persona. She even has it down to her disinterested hands in her pockets. “How’s a Habit-less life treating you?”

“I’ve been here for two weeks, how did you just notice?” Wallus tries to ignore her questions as well, but immediately feels self-conscious about it. He backtracks, and clears his throat. “...Also pretty good, thank you for asking.”

While Wallus expects the girl to tell him off or ignore him in some other way, Nat just leans on the nearest wall to actually make some conversation.

“Well...I don’t actually have the best attendance record. This is like my third day this month.”

“Oh. Because it’s “cool” to play hooky nowadays, or something?”

Surprisingly, Nat shakes her head.

“No, I just have real bad sun allergy and it’s kind of a long walk from home.” A beat. “And I’d rather be caught dead than wearing a hat or sunscreen.”

Huh. Wallus glances at the nearest open window, and a rare cloudy spring morning backs Nat’s argument up pretty well. He’s about to ask about Trencil’s opinion on her skipping school so much, but the clicking of shoes quickly coming down the hall distract him and Nat both into turning around. She rolls her eyes when she registers the sound and the person quickly coming their way.

“Oh my god. I was wondering when he’d show up.”

_He_ turns out to be another familiar face to the janitor--way too familiar, in fact, as it is none other than Trevor Garbo, somehow managing to stop himself in his giddiness right before he crashes into Nat. The kid looks so happy to see his friend after the better part of a month that it would probably be accurate to compare his excitement to a puppy’s, not to mention he doesn’t even seem to notice the gigantic slink of a man she’s talking to as he also proceeds to totally ignore Wallus’ existence.

Jeez, you’d think being the way Wallus is would make him a little noticeable.

“I knew you’d come to school as soon as I saw the sky this morning!” Trevor exclaims, perhaps a little too loudly.

Nat doesn’t seem to mind or be surprised at the volume, but glances to the side to avoid reacting in any way to the attention.

“Yeah. It’s alright to be back, I guess.”

Feeling a little awkward to be between two friends meeting up, Wallus sort of clears his throat as he waves.

“Hi to you too, Trevor.”

It takes Trevor not only a moment, but a very outlandish up and down look coupled with a fascinated gasp to actually address Wallus.

“...And who would you be, Mister--uh-- Slender…” A beat. “...Man?”

Wallus blinks down.

“Um. We know each other.”

“I’d certainly remember someone like you, and as it turns out, I don’t!”

“Are you--” Wallus sighs, a little exasperated. “We were kind of roommates back at the Habitat? Boiler room-mates? We only had each other for company in that dark and stinky jail.”

Trevor looks at him like he’s speaking in another language.

“Oh, wait.” Nat suddenly speaks up. “Trevor, how long did it take you to get to the Habitat?”

“Uh?” Trevor hums, “Like...I don’t know, I saw the website at home and just decided to go, why?”

“Uh-huh. Dad and I were around when Habit and his creepy paper lackeys were going around asking for the reviews they’d put up on the site. This guy--” She gestures towards Wallus, “--was out in the open by then. And then not. He’s the wall guy.”

_“Wallus.”_

“Oohh!!” Trevor nods along, finally catching up, “So this is what you looked like all along??”

A little embarrassed, Wallus also nods. A totally oblivious Trevor reaches towards him with a friendly hand, though, clearly intent on shaking.

“Well it’s nice to formally meet my former partner in crime! I guess today really is a day for vampires to be out and about, huh?”

Nat elbows him for that, and while Trevor winces, the janitor can’t help but feel a little deja vu at the term.

“Like I told you a million times, I’m not--” Wallus starts, but cuts himself off with an exasperated huff when he realizes he doesn’t really know which statement to deny first. He reaches to accept Trevor’s handshake, nevertheless, unable to let a chance for actual friendliness pass by. “You know what, whatever. Nice to formally meet you too.”

Yep, it seems his new job is doomed to at least partly be his Habitat experience all over again.

At least Nat seemed amused to have someone to share the Garbo experience with.

\--

Wallus had imagined he wouldn’t spend all that much time with the kids of the Habitat if he was busy with his own janitor duties and they were busy with schoolwork and hanging out with each other, but as it turns out, it’s not like both things can’t be connected.

He finds out as much when he realizes how often the sun comes out in spring and summer and in turn, how often Nat actually isn’t at school. Interestingly enough, he’s noticed that despite the girl’s insistence on considering Trevor a geek and a lame-o and very loudly claim disinterest and embarrassment over hanging out with him, she seems very intent on being the only one allowed to say and act as much whenever she’s around; quietly but successfully messing with, tripping or showing fangs to any kind of kid that even looked funny towards him. Wallus has no real idea what that is about, but can’t find it in himself to question Nat’s scarier side if she’s using it for the noble sake of keeping her friend safe and unaware.

Unfortunately, though, Nat isn’t always around for that. Most of the time, Wallus comes to realize how Trevor has to hide by himself, and he’s not sure if the kid’s even conscious about it. He starts losing count of all the times he’s had to chase Trevor out of the school’s auditorium, clean up his messes in the gym and empty classrooms and unlock him from school property way past study hours. Sometimes all of it in the course of a single day.

The straw that breaks the camel’s back comes some time later, when Wallus finds himself cleaning up after one of the messier middle school classrooms to the tunes of the Pumpkin Accolades on his walkman, courtesy of Kamal. He’s almost in a daze, scrubbing dusty and pencil-filled desks after desks until he reaches one in particular:

_TREVOR GARBAGE._

Wallus’s bug eyes widen when he comes across the crude name inscribed on the desk-- like something sharp was used to dig into the wood-- maybe scissors or a pocket-knife. As if the name wasn’t familiar enough, defaced tiny pencil scribbles of animals and aliens and monsters confirm without a doubt who the desk belongs to, and what the intention was here with hateful sharpie messages and exes all over the notes and doodles.

...Ugh, kids really are the cruelest nowadays, aren’t they?

Well, there’s nothing Wallus can do to change that, but the least he can try is to continue on with his job.

And that is to help clean messes up.

\--

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

Wallus shrugs into a mouthful of a homemade sandwich.

“I told you already. The missing desk wasn’t there anymore when I got to the classroom yesterday.” He explains, simply. “Maybe one of your aliens or something took it away.”

Trevor’s face lights up at the suggestion.

“No, aliens are kind of far-fetched for something so small, but you might be onto something.” He nods along, the gears of his mind quickly turning. “I did have some notes for my latest investigation scribbled on top, after all. The school higher-ups might’ve noticed.”

“Ooh, do tell.”

“Yeah!” He grins up. “I was concerned, but it’s all still in my head. I’m getting closer and closer to the bottom of this.”

“Good going, then. Go get’em.”

“Will do!” Trevor turns to be on his way, “Thank you for your cooperation, I’ll be sure to mention you when I-”

“Uh, just a moment.” Wallus calls out, catching Trevor’s attention. “Before you go, I got you something.”

“Huh?”

Wallus reaches into his pocket, and out of the gigantic and jiggling stack of keys he always carries around, he pulls out a single one-- newer and cleaner in comparison to any he already has; a fresh copy. He casually leaves it on Trevor’s hand.

“Oh my god.” Trevor incredulously says, inspecting it. “You’re finally letting me investigate the teacher’s room to help me out with this case??”

“Wha-? No?” Wallus shakes his head. “No, no, that’s not happening.”

“Then what’s this for?”

“It’s for the janitor’s room. I’m getting tired of cleaning up all your pin boards and you must be getting tired of setting them all up, right?”

Trevor gives him a puzzled look. Wallus sighs, a little embarrassed he has to explain himself further.

“...What I mean is, you might as well have access to the one place that doesn’t need to be cleaned up at all times. It’s actually big enough for two, anyway.”

For once in his life, Trevor doesn’t run his mouth. Instead, he stays very still and very quiet as he stares at the silver key, as if processing the fact that he’s being offered somewhere to belong to whenever he needs it, whether he realizes it or not. He grins big and wide.

“Kind of like my very own Headquarters?”

Wallus laughs to himself.

“It’s actually mostly mine, but yeah. Something like that.”

Two months ago, nothing in the world would’ve been enough to even prompt Wallus to spend more time with the kids of the habitat, but now it didn’t seem so bad. In fact, there was something nice in being able to provide a safe hideout for someone more like him than he imagined--and he imagined, just from Trevor’s hopeful expression, that he probably thinks the same.

It takes some time to set rules and agreements, but they eventually get the hang of it. They thankfully had a bit of practice from their arrangement at the Habitat.

\--

....It’s been fifteen minutes already.

Silence never lasts this long during lunch break, and as such, Wallus has a pretty concise course of action before him on the few lucky times this happens:

1\. Wait before acting. Peace is interrupted two out of three times, so he must at least count a full five extra minutes of loneliness before letting his guard down.

2\. Relax and count himself on the clear for some actual time off. This is usually the time he either puts in a record or makes himself some coffee. Today, he’s going for the latter--he even pulls out his old fancy tea-set for the small portions he likes, courtesy of sweet old Grandma Breadbear, may she rest in peace.

3\. Like a fool, underestimate his luck and suffer the consequences.

Like clockwork, the consequences come stomping into the broom closet with the door slamming open in time with a shrill, pubescent voice yelling out his name just as the janitor manages to get a sip of coffee in his mouth.

“Wallus, you’re NOT gonna believe this!!”

And out goes the coffee in a spill, mostly from his mouth but also a bit from his precious porcelain cup. Ah, grandma would not have liked to see it rattled like that.

Trevor stares at the steaming little puddle of brown that just formed on the floor and blinks up at Wallus with a nervous smile.

“Uh--whoops...” He goes, meekly. He half-laughs. “Sorry. Again.”

An unimpressed Wallus sighs as he wipes the hot dribble under his mouth.

“S’okay, kiddo.” He goes, though he doesn’t sound all that okay--mostly resigned. “Pass me the mop, will you?”

Trevor reaches to his right, as familiar with the locations of the supplies as Wallus himself.

“Do you want the floor cleaner too?”

Wallus simply takes the mop and shakes his head. Though the room is spacious enough for most people, he still needs to bend himself in almost cartoonish ways in order to actually move around. He dutifully clears the floor from the coffee before it stains, and sighs to himself with relief as it comes out. Trevor remains by the door, anxiously waiting for him to finish cleaning up. When he does, Wallus glances his way.

“So... What did you find this time?”

The second he’s given a cue to start talking, any remaining guilt in Trevor’s expression turns into shameless excitement. He joyfully slams the door behind him to take his backpack into his side of the room-- helpfully marked by a tape Wallus had set on the floor long ago.

“Right! So do you remember last week’s findings at the town’s pumpkin fields??”

Oh, boy, again with the pumpkin fields. Wallus nods along.

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, guess what-- there’s even more right now, I saw them on my way to school! It’s not even October yet, so it isn’t it so weird that they’re already out and about?”

“Super weird.”

“Yeah, last year I’m pretty sure they started coming out until the first weeks of October! And to make things even weirder, there’s already Christmas decorations at the supermarket!!”

“You don’t say.”

“I SUPER say! Do you know what this means?”

Of course, Wallus already knows the explanations to those “mysteries”, and that most of them just have to do with the upcoming vegetable fair and shopkeepers who think of the townspeople who are smart enough to buy ahead of the festivities. If he tried to say as much, though, Trevor would still find a way to twist his words around to fit into his newest theory; something about the government trapping the town in a time loop, if he remembers correctly. So the janitor only shrugs, preparing himself for Trevor’s newest rant.

He half-listens in a tired daze as Trevor frantically shows him his latest notes from his on-going investigation and explains how he’ll be telling Nat the same as soon as she’s back to class. The whole time, all he really needs to do to move the conversation along is to nod, repeat the last few words Trevor says in the form of a question, or mumble his understanding. It’s not exactly fruitful for him to not use his break to rest and he’s still really in the mood for coffee, but somebody’s gotta do this, right?

He’s perfected the art of it by now, anyways.


End file.
